GRAPHIC VIOLENCE: ARTIST SEAN PRYOR ON ILLUSTRATING MOSHPIT STEREOTYPES

Hello kiddies!! Today we offer you some of the extra art parts for the May issue’s “Tales from the Pit” story that were left on the cutting room floor here at the Revolver offices. Exhibits A through E are all notorious archetypes of the metal/hardcore slam-dance floor. It doesn’t matter whether they’re your best friend, your ach nemesis, or just someone you see at every show, we all know them, including yours truly.

Exhibit A: “The Sweat-dog”
This breed of show-goer is more commonly seen at outside gatherings, fests, and tours. If he’s not at the bar paying six bucks for a piss-cup of light beer, he’s busting out the arm artillery for the all-girl gun show—only there’s no girls there. A word to the wise, when the band starts its set and the pit opens up, try to stay on the opposite side of him. For if you slam into him, you might wind up smelling like him for the rest of the day.

Exhibit B: “ Mary, Mother of Mosh”
One of life’s pleasures is seeing some homicidal looking girl stomping all her troubles away while the shocked and horrified run in terror. But I’ve also seen girls get ripped up about 30 seconds after they step into the ring. It seems to me that anyone should understand what happens when you dive in there: If Mary can’t hack it, Mary gets hacked up.

Exhibit C: “The Karate Kid”
I remember going to a Converge show with a friend of mine back around 2003. The guys that opened were pretty terrible, a local band back when emo/screamo was just starting to get popular. Anyways, the better bands start going on, the pit opens up, and I see people doing all kinds of karate moves. I was used to just seeing the normal moshing done at your usual show, so this was alien to your humble narrator. Upon first witnessing these feats I was impressed, but as time has past I have seen it blow up, and now every ’core show you go to looks like a Sonny Chiba movie.

Exhibit D: “Slimon”
I actually know this person. My friend Slimon takes the stereotype of the drunk and catapults it into an archetype. Considering some of the shit this moron has pulled off, it’s a wonder he’s not dead or in jail. At shows Slimon knows only three sacred commandments: Drink, Fight, and Fuck. Going to shows with Slimon can either end up getting you laid at some newly met girl’s house or in the drunk tank. It’s not a good night for this creature if he hasn’t puked, blacked out, or both. I can see there being a Slimon in everyone’s neck of the woods; I just find it hard to believe. At least I hope there isn’t. Fuck you, Slimon. Up the drunx.

Exhibit E: “The Notorious D.O.U.C.H.E.”
People like this act as a reminder to all that for the time being, every group of people will have their assholes. Moshpitters are no exception. Usually the asshole disease shows up in this breed of show-goer who feels that he, and sometimes she, has something to prove and acts as if they have a steel-plated chocolate starfish. Last time I checked, didn’t people go to shows to get away from this form of mental retardation? I know I did. Seeing people like this makes me wish there was some type of “Douche Crew” detector to weed out these mouth-breathers. An asshole cleansing of sceneland would surely give the rest of us a better chance at having fun.